


Improbable

by Elijahlux



Category: Improbable, Original Work
Genre: Gen, High School, Multi, Other, Sci-Fi, Superpowers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 20:41:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4152195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elijahlux/pseuds/Elijahlux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story about highschoolers with superpowers.</p><p>This is a collaboration by three authors so far:<br/>Aerol Cruzwriting the parts of Seth;<br/>Elijah Reyes writing the parts of Darius;<br/>and Jose "Pepe" Sales writing the parts of Anna.</p><p>We hope you guys enjoy! c:</p><p>(Yes, we're on Wattpad too. Our Tumblr's improbableofficial.tumblr.com! Drop us a line there. owo)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I : Seth

**Author's Note:**

> This one's Aerol's character, Seth Signey. I only assume his name is Signey because I pitched the name and he responded with an 'ooh'. XD  
> Anyway, enjoy the first chapter!

The bus is late this morning. I'm sitting on the couch reading  _Romeo & Juliet_ for the nth time while waiting for the school bus's usual three low pitched honks. My watch says 7:04. The bus usually comes at 7:00. I take a deep breath as I insert the god forsaken romance novel in my bag.

"Mom, I'll just walk!" I cried. After hearing her muffled reply from the kitchen, I open the door to go out.

Outside, the skies are a dull gray. The wind, a slight breeze, hits my face. Clouds clump together overhead signaling the ever nearing storm. It's actually strange. The people on the radio and on TV have been saying that a storm will hit Rosehart City for more than a week but it never actually rained-not even a small drizzle. At any rate, the weather gives everyone reason to cover up. I pull up the hood of my gray jacket and hands in pocket, start walking. Once I reached the corner, the bus appears in front of me.

"There you are, Seth!" Stan, the bus driver, exclaims whilst opening the bus doors.

"About time," I said as I step onto the bus. "I thought you were held up or something."

"Yeah, well, they're really making a fuss over the Ulysses place again. Damned press just won't quit it."

Ulysses Labs. The place every aspiring scientist in the city hopes to work and quite possibly grow old in, literally.

"Well, anyway, step on it. Class starts in ten minutes." I said as I tap his shoulder.

"Sure thing, kid."

***

Once the bus reaches Ruckington High, the passengers file out in a semi orderly manner. I wait till the last guy gets off before I get up to go. Stepping out, I accidentally run into a dude with a black jacket and headphones on somewhat blocking the exit of the bus. He looks at me quite surprised, steps aside and whispers an apology before walking off to who knows where. Probably had his music on too loud or something.

Looking at the building in front of me, the same old school greets me. A wide lawn is spread in front of the school. Students usually choose this place to hang around. The campus building itself is built arranged like a semi-circle and behind it, the gym, greenhouse, football field and the cafeteria.

Inside, the halls are simply classrooms on one side and just windows across them; well, four floors of that at least. The ground floor has all the other "miscellaneous" rooms, if you would call it, such as the library, the registrar, the bookstore, etc. I head up the stairs to class.

Once the day finished, I pack up my things to go back home. Upon reaching the door, a girl jumps out. 

"BOO!" she says happily. Her greeting comes at me like a slap in the morning to wake me up.

"Jesus, Kelly. That was unnecessary," I say as I recover from the surprise.

"Yeah, well. I made a point to avoid you the whole day just to do that," she says while laughing. "You looked pretty ridiculous, you know."

"Ha ha ha. Like I care what I look like. Come on let's go home."

"Okay, Mr. Straight-A-But-No-Friends-Except-Me. No need to be so uptight." The comment actually gets me a little.

"You know you aren't my only friend right?" I remind her.

"Yeah, but it's pretty fun to pretend that I am." she says before skipping ahead. Sighing, I follow her.

We continue walking out of the school together in semi-silence. (Walking, meaning her skipping while humming.) Even if it's four in the afternoon, the sky hasn't really changed, just the same dull gray clouds accompanied with the breezy wind. It's almost taunting, really. She broke the semi-silence with a question.

"So, your dad's coming home today, right? That's why your mom's so busy?" she asks like it's the most usual thing.

"Well, yeah. He'll be back for the night. Tomorrow, he'll probably be gone in the morning, as usual." I replied.

"Oh come on, Seth. You don't have to be so hard on him all the time. It's not purely his fault," her tone a little more sympathetic than before.

"Yeah, but, it still sucks. I mean, sure, your dad is a genius being paid a ton of money by some big company to develop things for them and somehow his genius genes made it into you and you're this straight A student with no actual other distinctions. That's a life worth settling in. But having a dad barely there to watch you win the science fair? What's the point?" I reply.

Kelly sighs. We arrive at her house. Her bus comes earlier in the morning which is why I didn't see her this morning. Before running inside, she turns to me and takes my hand.

"Look, Seth. Your father is a good man. He works to provide for you and your mother. Admittedly, he isn't there for you 24/7. But at least, he isn't gone. We both know it's a lot better to have two living parents than one. Come on. Just enjoy tonight while you got it," she says while looking at me with her slightly wet blue eyes. Her mother died three years ago. And it was something even I couldn't forget.

"Okay. I'll try," I reply with a smile.

"Great. See you tomorrow," she says before running inside.

Kelly Deirdre Harrison, a petite girl with short raven hair and ocean blue eyes, has been my neighbor since forever. She and I had been friends long since we were able to walk. Sure, it's weird for most people to think how that's possible but, well, it is. She understands me and vice versa. Her father, a fat balding middle aged man with a belly full of beer, is a prick. He wastes his days with a job that barely pays him enough money for the two of them and yet, he clearly spends it on alcohol. Talk about wasting away. Kelly's grandmother was kind enough to rescue her, providing her enough money to go to school.

On the way home, I feel a little cold droplet on my head. Looking at the sky, small droplets of water seem to be falling like a soundless screen of static. The remaining light from the sun appears as a fading colorless glow behind the giant clouds. Appreciating this little moment seems beautiful but a lot can change in a few hours.

***

Thunder and lightning roar outside. The innocent drizzle that came this afternoon turned into a violent storm in a couple of hours afterwards. Like most long withheld rainstorms, this one is quite the monster. Looking at the window, I can barely make out anything due to the pouring rain. The street looks flooded and some objects are scattered on the road. It seems like the wind's taking its toll, as well.

In my room, I have enough light to do things that I need to do. I lie on my bed with my laptop and other school stuff. My room is pretty standard. Shelves filled with books from my childhood, some novels and my textbooks line the upper part of two walls. A desk with some paper, pens and an array of drawers stand below them. In front of my bed is my closet and a TV set, complete with common gaming consoles. Beside my bed is my own bathroom which is quite useful for having to get out of the room in the middle of the night for an unwanted pee.

While doing homework for my English midterms, I hear the sounds of a parking car in front of our house. He's here, I thought. Sighing, I drop my laptop onto the bed, and go to the bathroom to freshen up.

In the mirror, I see a boy with dark brown hair and green eyes. His hair seems to be a mess that has never met a comb. I am wearing a white long sleeved tee shirt that covers my not too shabby torso and pants that I wore to school today. Perfectly normal. I sigh and brush my teeth to head to the living room.

I arrive downstairs to see my mom, a woman with the same dark brown hair (in a ponytail) who looks slightly younger than she really is wearing a pink sweatshirt and black pants, open the door for dad. He's wet from the pouring rain, wearing a coat, tie, and leather shoes. Putting down the briefcase and closing the door, he hugs mom. They exchange greetings.

He looks at me with through his glasses, green eyes unwavering.

"Hey, son, how are you?" he says while reaching his arm out, motioning me to come to him.

"Great, dad, as always," I reply as I embrace him, wet and all. He embraces me tightly, like he's been gone for so long and he may have forgotten how it felt like. Maybe he did.

After all the hugging, I help mom prepare the table while dad dries off in the bedroom.

"Seth, you'll behave, right?" my mom asked as she got the food from the kitchen.

"I'll try. It's still annoying, though. Why couldn't he just teach at school or something?" I reply while setting the plates and silverware. "It's not like he can't. He does have the degree, you know."

Mom sighs, replying, "Yes, I know your father's capabilities. But he's doing a lot better work at Ulysses Labs than he is anywhere else." She puts her hands on my face and says with a smile, "Look, you just have to give it some time. Something great will come of it, I'm sure."

Unable to resist my mom's plea, I smile and give her an okay.

Once dad got into the dining room, we sat down and started eating. Of course, that had to go along with questioning and discussing.

"So, Seth, how's school?" he asks nonchalantly, as if he comes home every night making that question routine.

"Well, if you must know, it's the same. Boring, easy. I got straight A's in the last quarter again except for history, though. B+. It's dreadfully boring anyway but, you know, I try," I answer while eating the delicious steak.

"Great. You're in your junior year, right?" he asks after taking a sip of wine. To this, I nod. "Well, junior year means junior prom, right? Any plans?"

Crap, I actually forgot about the whole thing. It's not really my biggest priority unlike many of the students at Ruckington High but it's not something to forget about either. "Oh right, that thing. I just thought I'd, I don't know, ask Kelly, maybe. I don't think she has plans with anyone else."

"You know, you and Kelly are great friends. Why don't you two go out or something?"

"It's because we're great friends that we don't go out like that. Besides, we have our hands full with junior year. The workload's hectic."

He laughs at my reply. Dad probably doesn't know the feeling of dating your best friend. Neither do I but I believe it feels pretty weird. "Hey, dad, why don't you just teach in Ruckington High?" I suddenly ask. Once I said the words, his face changes to one emotion. Guilt.

"Seth, you know why. I get that teaching is cool too but I'm doing better stuff at Ulysses Labs. Stuff that could help change how people live. Medicine, architecture, agriculture, physics, a lot of other stuff like that. Imagine how cool that would be."

He's still pressing his reasons. This isn't the first time he's said all that. I've tried convincing him that his work's getting too long and taxing maybe he should just change jobs. Angrily, I reply, "Yeah, I can imagine all that. But I want someone else to be behind it all. Or some other people. There are tons of scientists in that place I don't understand why you have to be the one that spends too much time in there."

"I don't understand why you can't just support me. I've been doing my job for years and I've been providing well enough for you for so long. Why can't you just be happy for me? Don't you want to see my name on the news, next to some big achievement?"

His replies make me angry. It's like he isn't listening to anything I'm saying; like he's chasing this dream he doesn't even know is going to come true. And he's making it a bigger priority than what I want. Pissed off, I stand from the table and shout, "If you're so proud of what you're doing I hope it makes you happy when you realize how much of a useless father you are."

At that moment, the light in the dining room sparks off. Seeing my stunned face father across me, I run back into my room. I slam the door and rest on it, sliding down to the floor with my head in my hands and knees on my forehead. Why can't he just understand the bad effect of what he's doing? Doesn't he see me- how lonely I am?

Outside, mom is trying to get me to go back but I only hear her muffled voice through the door. She hasn't left the table. Maybe she's trying to talk about it with him. I don't know. I can't really hear much through my silent sobs. The tears come down in a silent flow. Crying isn't something I usually do. But for some reason, I know how not to look it. I lean my head back on the door to wipe the last of the tears away from my face. Once I open my eyes, I gasp.

There are objects floating in my room. Literally, some of my things are floating in the air. My pen, a pair of scissors, my notebook, even a pillow. They all look suspended and they're floating in a circular motion, like they're orbiting something. I stand up and poke the objects. They just move a bit to the side but they still continue orbiting. Turning around, I didn't realize my TV remote floating around too. But unlike the other objects, it seems to follow wherever my right hand is at. Testing it out, it's like the remote and my hand are bonded together. How strange.

My fun time is cut short when I suddenly hear my mom banging on the door, calling me out louder this time. Once I lost my train of thought, all the floating objects just drop to the floor, inanimate. I open the door to see my mom crying.

"Mom, I'm sorry. I know it was too much-", I start before she interrupts saying, "Seth, help me. We need to bring your father to the hospital." She brings me me to the dining area where the chair collapsed, and beside it my father lying unconscious, who only minutes before was fine, but now is a worrying red and his temperature was hot, too hot.

"What happened?" I ask bewildered.

"I don't know. We were talking then suddenly, he said his head hurt and he just fell over," mom says through sobs.

We drag him into the car outside, ignoring the pouring rain. I grab the house keys and lock the door while my mom starts the car. Hopping inside the car, I cradle my dad's head on my lap and lay a towel at his dangerously warm forehead. Mom drives out of the parkway and steps on it. We speed away into the dark night while the clouds roar with thunder and the rain pour.

-


	2. I : Darius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darius Lenoxx, my character, gets some exposition. owo

                     It's always been like this.

                        Rubbing my eye, I sit up in my bed, hand swatting at the alarm. I take a few minutes to regain enough of my senses to be able to stand. And I let out a cross between a groan and a sigh as I stumble through the bathroom door.

                        I guess you could say I'm one of those people who seem to have a black cloud perpetually hanging over them. Some days are better than others, but frankly, most of the time I just feel like crap.

                       In the shower, I keep my mind blank as I follow my preprogrammed routine: shampoo, soap, facial wash, and rinse. The longer I go without thinking, the better, because as soon as I start, my thoughts haunt me like ghosts. No, not like Casper, either.

                        I dry off and brush my teeth, then lazily pull on one of my usual ensembles.

                        Taking one last look in the mirror, I catch my features. A kid stares back, with his lean build, broad shoulders, bright hazel- almost orange- irises, and pitch black hair flowing forward with bangs up and to the left, wearing an almost-entirely black jacket over a mint-colored button-down, light brown pants, and forest green shoes.

                        With these colors, you’d think I’d be the opposite of how I actually act- that is, if I didn’t always deliberately keep my head down and under my hood. I’m the reverse goth, basically.

                        I grab my navy blue backpack, and walk down the hall to the living room. My parents usually aren't here, so I don't bother calling out to anyone. I doubt they care either way. Once I reach the door, I check the wall clock, give a small wave to Cella, our help, and head out.

                        As it's a bit past seven, which means the bus is late, I walk to the corner, behind a kid in a grey jacket, and the bus comes careening out of nowhere to stop in front of them. I let out a huff, speed up my pace a bit, and climb into the bus, nodding to the driver.

                        I head to the back, put on my headphones, click on the music, and close my eyes.

**\----**

                        The bus stops at Ruckington High, and when almost everyone else's left, I step off and breathe. Routine-

I feel something's weight on my backpack and I quickly step aside, whispering a just barely-audible "sorry". It's the grey jacket guy from earlier.

He gives me a sort of glare and I sigh as I pull my hood back up.

                        I tread through the lawn to the building. The façade is the same as I assume it's always been, save for a bit of natural wear. I pick up a few things at my locker and stuff them into my backpack before heading to homeroom, where I doodle a bit in a sketchbook. I'm not very good, but I try.

                        I'm almost through with drawing one of my favorite characters when the bell rings. I flip the notepad shut, and head to Chemistry. Hood up, headphones on, never talking to anybody, because there’s never anybody to be talking to anyway.

                        For most of the school hours, I go unnoticed, save for when a teacher calls on me. One thing about me: even if it doesn't seem like I'm listening, I usually know the right response. I'm not an A student, but I'm actually pretty good in classes like math and science. I'd probably get better grades on the others if I actually studied at all.

                        So I suppose this is it. Every day, it's pretty much exactly this. I float through classes, invisible in the halls, then head home on the bus when it's all over. People say things get better. They don't. I used to keep wishing that something would happen, that someone would actually bother to talk to me, that things would _change_ , but they don’t. Things stay the same. I’d given up any semblance of hope some time ago. I’ve come to terms with the fact that nobody really cares about me.

                        The bus slows to a stop, and I tread through my house's front doors.

**\----**

                        Okay, so maybe I haven’t _quite_ come to terms with the whole ‘nobody cares’ thing. That’s pretty clear, now that I’m sitting on the side of my bed, watching the blood on my inner wrist drip down into my towel and listening to the crackle of rain and thunder.

                        Ugh. I’m a mess.

                        I watch the trickle of crimson red for a bit longer, stewing in my admittedly-melodramatic internal whirlpool of despair. It wasn’t always like this, no. But it’s been like this for as long as I can remember. Anything past my first couple of memories- slowly drifting off on the side of the road in a pile of broken glass, then waking up bloodied and wounded at the hospital- is a wall of solid black void.

                        I walk to the bathroom and clean up, washing and covering the wounds, then stash the towel in the wall-mounted drawer above my bathroom mirror. It’s pretty much undetectable up there. Save for dad, I’m the only one in the house tall enough to actually reach it. After shutting the drawer, I rub at the newly-placed bandaids and pull my sleeve down.

                        It’s 11:13. I take my phone and headphones from my bag, and head out on my usual midnight stroll.

**\----**

 

_Every time I close my eyes_

_It's like a dark paradise_

                       I step out of our cul-de-sac to the rhythm of Lana del Rey's Dark Paradise, and after a while, I reach the city streets. Keeping out of the rain, I stalk through the seedy alleys and graffiti-laden underpasses as I watch the dark, stormy cityscape. Skyscrapers about 50 stories high, blocky, modernistic structures, the occasional park, and residential high-rises pepper the land. The walk’s calming, in a way. Then I see it.

                        The bright and gleaming Ulysses Laboratories superstructure towers over all the rest of the concrete jungle. Its face is clean and metallic, with cubes of steel and iron protruding in nearly every direction in architectural perfection. And yet, it seems almost malevolent.

                        They never shut the lights off of the building. I often wonder how they get the funds for it, or why they even keep it on, but then I remember that an international corporate behemoth’s headquarters probably shouldn’t have a problem with that. There aren’t any residential buildings for blocks, anyway. Those that _are_ close enough to be shone on are shadowed out by commercial and industrial structures surrounding the headquarters.

                        In any case, it’s a pretty good landmark. The place I’m headed for should be just past here-

                        A shadowed, hooded figure runs past me, colliding with the left side of my torso. I check my pocket for my phone before pressing on. Jesus, what’s with people in jackets running into me today? I sigh and walk past Ulysses.

I reach the cemetery.

 

\----

 

HERE LIES DANIEL WINSTON HAWKING

JANUARY 11, 2001 - NOVEMBER 13, 2019

"THE RIGHTEOUS PERISH, AND NO ONE PONDERS IT IN HIS HEART;

DEVOUT MEN ARE TAKEN AWAY,

AND NO ONE UNDERSTANDS THAT THE RIGHTEOUS ARE TAKEN AWAY

TO BE SPARED FROM EVIL.

THOSE WHO WALK UPRIGHTLY ENTER INTO PEACE;

THEY FIND REST AS THEY LIE IN DEATH.”

Is. 57:1-2

 

\----

 

When I woke up, the first thing they told me was that he was dead. I had no idea who they were talking about, but I never bothered to question it.

They handed me my phone, its screen cracked, when they thought my bones and muscles were healed enough to handle it properly. I went straight to the photos.

Among all the others, there must've been about a hundred of them. Good memories, it seems, with a boy named Daniel Hawking.

 

 ----

 

MAR 23, 19:53

dude want to hang out at dq tomorrow?

Sure. What's with the sudden change of scenery though?

just wanted to take my best friend out for food for once

seeing as youre usually the one paying :P

Heh. Okay then.

see you there at 2 then, sweetie ;*

Oh my god. XD

 

\----

 

MAY 29, 23:47

hey darius, are you okay man? :(

Not doing so good. I've hit one of my lows again.

aw

well if you feel like it, ill listen

remember, ill always be willing to help you get through it!

every time you feel like there's nothing to live for ill be right here for you :)

 

\----

 

From what I could make out from the pictures and phone messages, I'd figured that he must've been an upperclassman, and that I was starting high school the same year when it happened. But I still can't put together what led to the crash.

I stayed in the hospital a few more months after I received my phone. I never was able to reach his funeral.

A bit after I was released, I managed to find some videos of him online. He looks like the kind of guy who'd be friends with everyone. God knows how the two of us would've been best friends, or how we even met. I'm a wreck to the fourth power, and he seems perfect-his face, his personality, everything. The accident happened three years ago.

So that's why I'm sitting here, in front of his grave, in a clichè _spooooky cemetery_ with all its tombstones and near-leafless trees. I did my info-digging before I left the hospital, and I've come here every night since I could walk unassisted.

Sometimes I cry a bit on my visits. Okay, often. It's certainly the case this time. I always come here, and the only thing that ever happens is this. But, for once, something different does happen.

When I raise my head, I nearly scream and get away from there as quick as I can.

Because, right in front of me, I'm pretty sure I'd seen his ghost.

 


End file.
